


and they were roomates (oh my god they were roomates)

by BeepingPico



Category: Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game), Pico's School (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29111760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepingPico/pseuds/BeepingPico
Summary: Boyfriend gets hurt by a gang and Pico is there to look after him, they go from no homo to full homo. (work for keith who came up with the idea, thanks king)
Relationships: Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin')/Pico (Pico's School)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 180





	and they were roomates (oh my god they were roomates)

**Author's Note:**

> theres no Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin') that comes up when putting it in characters im so pissed

It was any other day when Boyfriend, otherly known as BF was strolling down the sidewalk down towards the local 7 eleven to get some food. His place was getting low and he didn't want GF to think he was a slob, despite what habits he had picked up. Gently sighing and looking up at the sky he thought of what a lovely day it was, and how he hoped it didn't rain while he was still walking when-

-when out of the blue a hand grabbed him from the back of his shirt and yanked him into the ally beside him that he hadn't noticed.

A small “Beep!” escaped him accidentally as his face was met with the rough uneven surface of the wall and dragged across it. He felt his skull rattle, back cracking painfully- maybe from boots? (“steel toed” his brain unhelpfully added), the ring of a metal pipe hitting flesh (his own?), pain, so much pain on his arms, knees, stomach, and then nothing. One minute he had a death grip on his shirt to keep himself from- from what he didn’t know, something rash probably, maybe screaming, maybe crying.

Cracking open his eyes he winced- and winced again at the feeling of his face scrunching up from what was probably a black eye, split lip and god knows what else. It hurt, he hurt so bad, if he had to guess there were probably a few bones broken and some fractured. 

Breathing shallowly as he could and steeling himself BF opened his eyes once again, ignoring the stinging feeling of the streetlamp in his eyes (since when did it get to night?) and pulled himself up so his back was leaning on the brick wall behind him. There wasn't much he was thinking about, head swimming and feeling dangerously close to blacking out from that simple movement.

His hat, right, his hat was there, forgotten from the people who did it and he was slightly thankful of them ignoring it. Reaching out and shakily putting it on he exhaled as gently as he could. He might have been out of it but he knew someone kicked him on the stomach, and strongly at that so breathing was a chore in itself. He brought down his hand and stared at it- it was covered from blood, from his head. It surprised him and he's not sure why, maybe this was shock? This is what happened in movies and stuff.

Feeling his head again BF found it matted and nearly completely dried with crusted blood, he's not sure how long he was left out here but enough for blood to dry. What time was it? Feeling around for his phone awkwardly and painfully he let a triumphant boop as he fished it out only to feel himself tear up at the sight of it smashed to bits. Shards of microscopic glass embedded into his hand as he stared blankly. 

Sobs wracked him frame as he realised how hopeless the situation was, would he stay here till someone found him? Would he try and go home like this? What would he do then? He couldn't treat himself, these were too major and he hadn't a clue what to do in this type of situation. His sobs turned to wails and bawling, too caught up in the moment of what had happened to him, why did this happen to him? Who were they?? His breath caught as a particularly harsh breath caught inside his lungs and he went into a coughing fit, chest burning painfully from the break and stomach screaming out to  _ stop stop stop _ .

Boyfriend sat there, wheezing and feeling his mind white out from the pain. What… was he supposed to do, he racked his mind for anything, anything at all. He must have been there longer than he thought, mind too lost in the thought of nothing and hopelessness, big round tears falling silently onto his split lip mixing with the clotted blood before a gasp reached his ears, breaking him from the trance.

“Boyfriend? What are-” a voice began before suddenly stopping. The deathly silence surrounding them was oddly loud. It encompassed BF and he just wanted to shrink into a ball but his injuries made it impossible. He settled on resting his chin on his chest, not willing to look at the other person.

“What happened? Boyfriend? Hey- hey look at me.” They tried again, speaking softly but he could tell it was a forceful calm otherwise it would scare him off. He appreciated the gesture but he couldn't run if he wanted too right now anyway.

Purposeful heavy footsteps slowly walked towards him, as if he were some scared animal. Not much far from the truth he glumly thought. 

“Boyfriend? Are you-? Look at me, come on” the voice tried again stopping in front of him. Shuffling, burgundy shoes scraped each other in nervousness. Wait weren't those-?

“P- Pico? What are yo-” his voice broke as he looked up into Picos' worried one. The word he was saying caught in his throat as a whine ripped itself out without him realising. 

Pico hurriedly dropped to his knees, gun carelessly clanging against the ground and eyes wide, free hand reaching out but ending up flailing, unknowing where to put it as BFs keens got louder as a look of pure sadness washed over his face. 

Boyfriend didn't realise how tense he had been, muscles stiff and aching as he abruptly went slack. Pico let out a strangled sound as his head knocked into his chest, reflexively wrapping his arms around BF to stop him from falling into a heap.

“Pico i- im- thank god, it's just you. Oh my god” he let out a string of words, nonsense from the way Picos brows scrunched up and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around the other in an awkward embrace, thankful it was him and not some stranger or the people who did this. 

“No sleeping, were going to-” Pico spoke but BF couldn't hear anything else, word and sounds turned to white noise as he firmly held onto the other male, his safety. It hurt but his safety was warm and soft and treated him gently, picking him up, inexperienced but oh so gently. 

Pico hated this, hated seeing BF hurt, blood covered a majority of the others body and tacky blood making his hair go from its bright blue to a drab brown. He could tell the other was hurt, tell he was in shock from the way his eyes glazed over and body limp after he saw it was him. Pico had to admit it made something inside him feeling fuzzy and warm but it immediately froze over at what someone had done to his friend. 

Picking up BF with difficulty he began his trek home, taking as many shortcuts in the back alleys while also making sure if anyone was following them to get them off their tail. The walk wasn't long but it made him out of breath carrying another body along without unintentionally hurting them. 

Every few minutes he checked to see if Boyfriend's condition had gotten any worse, taking note of the more serious injuries that needed to be treated first and if his breathing was in any way blocked from blood or a pierced lung. Lucky (or unluckily) he couldn't see any blood leaking or hear any strange wheezing. 

Leaning on the emergency bar he opened the back door that led into the flat and began the arduous task of going up 3 flights of stairs, it was hard but the shitty elevator wasn’t working and when it did it always smelt of piss. These were one of the times it was broken from someone deciding to see if they could break the weight limit. 

After he reached his door he was left with a conundrum, attempt to open the door while holding a fully grown man (albeit short) or try to stand him up like a crappy cardboard cutout. He took his chances with unlocking the door holding Boyfriend and somehow got the key and unlocked it with minimal flailing. Small miracles he supposes. 

Speed walking his way in he kicked the door shut with practised ease and made his way to the bedroom which was just a small room with a double mattress on the floor, a desk with a chair, wardrobe shittyly made in the corner and a few clothes strewn in random places. He went to put Boyfriend down on his messily made bed but was stopped when he gripped tighter and Pico felt a twinge in his heart again.

Making shushing and nonsensical noises he gently pulled away but the grip BF had on him was surprisingly strong but that wouldn't do, if he didn't get those treated as soon as possible it could cause problems later on. So with that Pico shuffled inside his shirt and tried his best to not jog and unseeing Boyfriend. Shirt successfully off he grabbed whatever shirt was on the curtains (not sure how that got there). 

Now rushing he rounded the corner and grabbed whatever he needed, basically the entirety of his medical box, a bowl of warm water and a washcloth (the softest he had but he would never admit it). 

Hurriedly shuffling over he says a quiet apology to Boyfriend who's staring at him absentmindedly before carefully pulling up his shirt and hissing at the awful bruise taking over the majority of his stomach. Nothing looks like it broke the skin but he wipes the skin as softly as he can and snaps the instant ice pack, wrapping it in a cloth and leaving it on the mottled stomach. The cuts and grazes are likewise swiftly dealt with with a damp cloth, removing all dried blood, picking out any invading gravel or pebbles and cleaning with liquid antiseptic. Its heavy smell somewhat comforting with how often it was used helped Pico focus and ignore the small pangs whenever Boyfriend flinched. 

Most injuries sorted all he needed to do was to splint if he had any broken bones, nothing  _ looked _ wrong or out of place but he wasn't the one in pain and knew what was hurting the most. Thankfully he hadn't had to use any butterfly stitches or that skin glue. They always sucked.

Pico didn't realise how long it had taken him, the sun showing behind the drawn curtain and his body slightly aching from behind hunched over. His back hurt and no way was he going to be able to sleep on the sofa with it so he scooted to the other side of the bed and flopped down. 

Realising his mistake he spun around to come face to face with Boyfriend, still looking dazed but slightly more with it after hours had passed and still clutching the shirt he had taken off, much to his embarrassment now. 

Shrugging off the initial need to look away he covered himself with a random blanket he slept with and got comfy, kicking off his trousers although keeping the shirt on.

“Hey” he slowly poked Boyfriends face knowing it would get his attention even if unconsciously.

“Wake me up if you hurt ok? I know you do now but your uh-” Pico looked at him and coughed, “your not with it ok? So wake me up when you're with it or whatever” and then he was dead asleep with Boyfriends breathing slowly evening out with his.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this trash pls like and sub and ring that bell for more xoxo


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